Updated: Apr 1, 2022
It's an oft-used term by poets and writers alike when they are in a dearth of ideas and creative impulses. I often find this in journals and videos where they discuss extensively on this topic and pass varied vantage points. I never knew about this until I actually took my writing on a daily basis. I wrote in bits and pieces, whenever I felt like it. Poetry came naturally to me, prose followed thereafter. I feel poetry as my very being--they encircle me like an aura, always guiding and enlivening me. Prose takes a bit of my patience and time. I feel our lives are borne out of poetry--if there's love, if there is rain, if there are flowers and leaves, where can poetry escape...songs spring out of them only, the whole nature rejoices in glorifying the rhythm that poetry brings with it.
That block I was talking about, I feel crops out of our lack of imaginary ideas at a given point in time and even if they wait behind the door, they refuse to creep in. When our mind is so full, we are overwhelmed by our immediate circumstances and get flustered about where to take respite, this BLOCK appears like a genie who refuse to dodge and act against our command.
When I read about Ruskin Bond, I found that he never went through such a crisis--always inundated with ideas and stories alike. He would maintain a small diary and note everything around him-every small detail. If I carry such a diary, it would even refuse to come out of my bag, let alone write down anything in it.
Sometimes, when my mind is so full and clogged, I feel like pouring them down on paper...but then refute it altogether. I don't want people to read them, even if by accident...they would make me more vulnerable. There is enough chaos in their life already. Why should I inflate it?
So, basically, blockages are of numerous types. And I actually don't know much about it...I prefer reading about freedom--freedom of thought, words, speech--freedom to write without being judged, freedom to write whatever we feel, freedom to fly where even our imagination gets finite---freedom to live as we have never lived before...
"ITSY BITSY SPIDER
ON THE CRAWL,
IF I FOLLOW IT
I MIGHT GET
By Nandini Sengupta